capitalh | as long as you're mine

Who: Orion Pax and Arcee
Where: Ratchet's ship because it sucks less than the Rod Pod.
When: WHEN THE MUSIC HAPPENS.
What: Orion and Arcee try to dicuss their possibly doomed romance and end up serenading each other instead.
Warnings: It...yeah.

Orion hasn't exactly been forthcoming with his thoughts since the moment they had, but he hasn't been avoiding Arcee by any stretch of the imagination either. In fact, he's been coming around to check on her quite frequently, even if not much happens besides him asking her how she is progressing and maybe offering a shy smile before coming up with something he needs to go do.

He's happy, he thinks, but he isn't sure. If he forget for a moment that everything may be ending for him sometime soon, he can even think of it in terms of being one of the few good things that has happened to him here. Something that gives him hope beyond the pain that Megatron has caused him.

This time, he's doing what he usually does, which is slipping in at some point in the day to say hello. There's nothing expected happening...yet, anyway.

"Good to see you...Commander Arcee," he starts out, immediately questioning his own words.

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Ratchet being particularly adept at interacting with him is the reason why they were already such fast friends, he knows that much. Orion never felt that he was exactly antisocial, but he was quiet and reserved, and so he had historically come across that way, even if he was dissatisfied with that. His closest friends had been the ones that were capable of drawing him out.

But the things separating Optimus Prime for others seemed to run deeper than that - and though it hates to admit it, it is not difficult for Orion to put together why, knowing himself as well as he does.

"I think of the bot I am to become, and it...challenges me," he says, after a moment. "I have frequently wondered how I could come to be one that has done so much...but more than that..."

He feels guilty, saying this, even if this acknowledgement would never change his ultimate choice.

"I pity him for the things he has lost. I can see that potential within myself, and it brings me great sorrow. It even...frightens me, in a way."

"It's a lot of responsibility, none of which you asked for," Ratchet begins, but he seems to almost run out of steam after a moment, the words trailing off. He suddenly can't meet Orion's optics, and while his fingers stay curled against Orion's, something seems to drain from him slowly, his shoulders slumping and his head bowed, deflated and drained and exhausted. He looks old.

"It killed me a little," he finally admits. "I didn't doubt for a second that you'd--that you could do it. Any of it. But watching you learn to fight. Watching you kill for the first time. Watching you lock parts of yourself away for the sake of duty, it--it was hard for me just seeing you and knowing how hard it must have been for you. It was necessary, or some of it was--we all lost things, had responsibilities thrust on us that we weren't necessarily ready for. But it was hard."

Ratchet looks up at Orion again after a moment, the lines around his mouth deepening but his optics clear.

"That's why I meant it, when I told you that we wouldn't force you to take the Matrix back. I still mean it. You have a choice, this time--you're the best Prime we could have ever hoped for, but it's brought you a lot of grief, and you have every right to refuse. But even if you don't, you--" He stops, struggling for a moment, his fingers tightening on Orion's palm. "You deserve things for yourself, too. It's impossible to tell you that when you're Optimus, though goodness knows I've tried. But being Optimus doesn't mean you have to give up all of those things all over again, either."

Orion watches Ratchet as he speaks, his spark twinging painfully. It's in moments like this, where he can see the distance time has put between aspects of themselves - how much older Ratchet is than him, now. How many things he's seen that Orion hasn't.

If anything, it's just one more reason why he could never say no to taking the Matrix back. How could he leave Ratchet with a burden like this alone?

He's still scared, though. Perhaps more so than he was, even at the beginning. It has so often felt like the idea of being Optimus Prime are exclusive to things like happiness, and being able to see where it all goes makes the decision so much more heavy. The first time, he thinks, he could have had hope that it would turn out different. Now, there is no such thing.

He hates how hopeless he feels, in the face of all of this. Some part of him wonders if there is even anything left worth fighting for, now, with a dead planet and a culture torn apart. He wonder if Optimus Prime felt the same way, before all of this.

He looks down at Ratchet, his optics pained but understanding. He glances away - Orion Pax has never been as good at holding eye contact as his future self becomes.

"Perhaps I will remember this," he says, quietly, "with fresher audials, once I have taken it back."

Ratchet shutters his optics, still and silent for a long moment. He knows they need the Matrix--knows they need Optimus back--but he lets himself grieve for his friend, too.

Not for long, though. He raises his head after a minute, his mouth crimping wryly. "You'd better," he says, just a little bit of that familiar, warm exasperation back in his voice. "It's not fun, having to threaten you to get you to rest every so often, you know. Though I suspect it would take some kind of miracle beyond the Matrix's abilities to make you any less stubborn."

Orion tries to smile a little, glad that Ratchet is brightening just a little. It does seem like something he would argue about. He thinks for a moment, of how lucky he is that Ratchet will be there for him on both sides of this.

"I will try to be more considerate," he says, smiling a little more sincerely.

"I don't believe you for a second," Ratchet grouses, nudging Orion's elbow with his shoulder. "Don't think you can lie to me to get me out from between your plating when you're not taking care of yourself. It's my actual job, you know."

And one he's apparently done well at. Orion vents slowly, trying to release some tension. He's still worried and uncertain, but he is gradually feeling less scared. Maybe some part of him would actually like to know the things a Prime knows.

"Sometimes other things seem to take a higher priority," he says, less as a serious argument and more of an acknowledgement of his own behaviour. Like in this circumstance, for example.

as long as you're mine

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